((install)) - Plumperpass

Mara Whitlock had always been a dreamer. As a child, she’d spend evenings perched on the crooked fence, staring at the sky and whispering to the stars. Her mother, a baker whose loaves were famed for their airy lightness, often teased her: “You’ll never grow big enough to lift a sack of flour, Mara!” The comment lodged in Mara’s mind like a stubborn seed, and every time she watched a baker’s apprentice roll dough, she imagined the dough swelling—plump and golden—under her own hands.

Mara swallowed, feeling a tremor of excitement and a flicker of doubt. “What if it’s just a story?” she thought. But the longing in her chest was louder than any rational mind could silence. plumperpass